


same night but it's different (same night but it's deeper)

by Nitzer



Series: hot mess [1]
Category: H.O.T. (Band)
Genre: ...ish, Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Lots of kissing, M/M, if you know the interview mentioned here then you know it, immature bursts of emotions, is this told in present or past tense? god only knows, kangta is a charming lil incubus, like talking about it and it actually happens, set in like 97/98?, this whole fic is basically just kissing, woohyuk is in DENIAL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:14:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25042225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitzer/pseuds/Nitzer
Summary: Kangta talking about his first kiss on air doesn't mean anything to Woohyuk...until it does.or"And even if it just feels like a blip. Even if it just feels like another grand, fantastic experience that changes my life in no meaningful way. It’s the first time I kiss Chilhyun (it’s the first time I kiss anyone really). And it’s the only time I kiss him stone-cold sober."
Relationships: jang woohyuk/kangta
Series: hot mess [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813612
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	same night but it's different (same night but it's deeper)

**Author's Note:**

> i have no excuses for this shit i just love writing kisses and i haven't been able to stop thinking about woohyuk (in HOT and out of HOT) for like....months  
> title is from "Lonely Diver" by Zior Park

It’s just a blip in my career. Really. It’s too hard to hold onto any one, single thing when the whole world is at your fingertips. Every night I spend as a member of HOT is another night I experience something bizarre and outlandish—something I never thought I’d experience in my whole life. The feeling of awe and shock becomes such a permanent fixture in my teenage years that I just stop feeling it altogether. A sea of school girls screaming my name in a province I’ve barely even heard of. A ride in a private helicopter—not to enjoy the sights, just to get to the concert. Being favored by _Lee Sooman_ himself. Kissing Chilhyun on the floor of our dorms between two tiny twin beds. A fan letter that’s literally just fanfiction about me and Seungho.

Well…the fanfiction does catch me off-guard. And I’m almost glad because I had just been so jaded. It was nice to feel something about a fan letter again even if it was just confusion and faint disgust. The days of trying to respond to fan letters were so far behind me that I couldn’t even remember what it felt like. But everything else just blends together into a post-blackout blur at best. It’s probably why I near-compulsively hoard everything, it’s the closest I come to really remembering.

And even if it just feels like a blip. Even if it just feels like another grand, fantastic experience that changes my life in no meaningful way. It’s the first time I kiss Chilhyun (it’s the first time I kiss anyone really). And it’s the only time I kiss him stone-cold sober.

The interview is only remarkable because Lee Sooman himself is there. And he personally picked out some riskier questions, gave us more opportunities to be honest than most other interviews. Just to spice things up a little bit, the whole “mysterious” thing was getting stale anyway. I sidestep the “more interesting” questions though. Someone else can ruin their career. I’m stuck in that sweet spot of having fans to lose but not having enough to weather the impending storm if my “risky” answers aren’t charming enough.

But Chilhyun? He has enough fans to last him _years_ of consecutive scandals. If we let our fans have balloons with our individual colors instead of the standard white for the whole group, we’d see a sea of green every concert. He had more personal fans than _all_ of the fans of NRG or GOD probably. He could take the hit if things didn’t turn out so cute and charming. And few of us could even imagine a world in which Chilhyun didn’t charm and disarm every interviewer and reporter he came across. He was god’s gift to a burgeoning idol industry. He could answer the risky questions just fine. So, when they ask us about our first kiss, he’s the only one to say out loud that he’s had one. 

I know I’m telling the truth when I say I haven’t had my first kiss yet. And I’m pretty sure that Jaewon is telling the truth too because “first _kiss_ ” implies something beyond the preschool playground and he’s only like five or whatever anyway. But Seungho’s definitely a dirty liar and Heejun is probably at least sidestepping the truth too. But I can’t really say with Chilhyun. Everything he says sounds possible. I don’t think I know enough about him to call his bluffs or pick out his lies. He would always be the golden child and whatever parts of his personality were dictated by SM or really a part of him, I would never know.

But it’s also not really my problem. I’ve gotten this far by just accepting that Chilhyun would always be held at arm’s length from us. I didn’t _need_ to know every facet of his life to have an easy work relationship with him. I’d joke around with Seungho and dump all my stray affection onto Jaewon like I’d always done and, like the rest of the public, I’d assume that Chilhyun’s first kiss was with his middle school girlfriend. “Friendship tests” wouldn’t become a trend until long after we broke up anyway. I’d keep his mysterious image in public by simply not knowing anything about him really. So I spend the car ride to the dorms doing mocking impressions of Lee Sooman with Seungho and the whole thing passes right by me.

Our rooms and beds, honestly, are loosely assigned at best. Everyone just files in where it’s the most convenient. And if Jaewon wants to fall dead asleep on every one of the beds in this dorm, well that’s his god given right as the maknae. So when what usually is my bed gets occupied by some other deeply asleep figure it doesn’t bother me too bad. I’m not really tired yet. Chilhyun is also still up, laying down and listening to music with an empty bed across from him. So I take the opportunity to fill it.

I peak my head into the doorway. “Can I join you?”

“Always welcome.” He tells me with the same charming smile that disarms everyone he comes across. But I always feel antsy, getting too close to Chilhyun, like Lee Sooman himself will come butt in and gently guide me towards Seungho or Jaewon, where I belong. I guess Chilhyun never got to feel that invisible bubble the company put around him, living in it and all.

It’s not _awkward_ between us, persay. I like the album that Chilhyun is playing but I always feel like I need a cue or an invitation to start talking around him. Conversations don’t happen between us, they’re _forced_. And then there’s this long intro to a song and things start to feel a little oppressive, a little awkward between us and I guess that’s my sign. “Was that really your first kiss?” I could’ve asked about the album or practice or joked about the fact that were still threatening to replace us with Shinhwa but that’s what comes out of my stupid mouth instead. I didn’t even think I was that interested.

“What?” He asks, looking at me instead of the ceiling.

“At the show today?” I prompt him. My words have lost some of their confidence but I don’t really expect him to notice.

“Ah, yeah.” He answers easily. “Why? Did you lie about yours?”

“I didn’t but I’m pretty sure Seungho did.”

“Oh yeah, he was really popular in school here.” He responds thoughtfully. “But you were popular too?” His brow furrows cutely. I wonder if there is an expression that doesn’t suit him for a second.

“No, I wasn’t.” I brush off easily. “Not until people found out I was a trainee, anyway.”

“No way.” He protests. “Dancers are always popular. All the other popular guys at my school took dance lessons and did performances at the school and stuff. Girls went _insane_ for it.”

“Well, not at my school I guess.” I shrug.

He just looks at me as the vocals filter back into the music for a moment. It feels like a long moment, though, with his eyes _scrutinizing_ me. “You must’ve been one of those guys that was so popular that all the girls were intimidated by him so you never knew how fucking popular you were.” He places finally, looking like he solved a hard math problem for the whole class.

“That’s not a thing.” I scoff. “That’s just something you made up to make me feel better about not being popular in school.”

He shakes his head passionately. “No,” he argues, “it’s totally a thing. It happened to me in elementary and I didn’t know until one of my friends told me how much the girls liked me.”

And I could almost imagine it in the context of Chilhyun—of _Kangta_ —the golden boy, who won every heart and charmed even the most stoic and uninterested host. Even if it was still near impossible to imagine that it could apply to me. “Yeah, but you’re _you_ and I’m… _me_.” I argue weakly.

There’s something that changes in his eyes, some kind of softness taking shape in them, making him really look as sweet and innocent as a baby deer. “And you’re a really great dancer and I’m not so maybe you were even more popular than me.” His voice has the same kind of soft innocence and I really can’t argue with it.

“What about your ex then?” I change the subject. “You must’ve known that she liked you.”

“Well, yeah.” He answers vaguely. “She was different.”

“Is that why you liked her?” I press.

He sits on the question for a moment and I realize that I haven’t heard the music for a while. It’s changed songs a few times and I missed them entirely. “Yeah,” he draws his finger aimlessly over the bed he’s laying on, “she was _really_ different.”

“Confident? Brash?” I press. And I’m not really interested in his middle school girlfriend. I think I’m just interested in him. I think I’m finally close enough to reach out and touch and I just keep inching my fingers forward.

“Yeah,” he confirms, his eyes locked on some spot above me on the wall.

“ _Wild_?” I don’t know if the word comes from me or from Chilhyun. It sort of just appears in the air. It’s not a word I’ve ever used to describe a girl, certainly not some middle school girl Chilhyun dated. It’s not a word I would imagine him using to describe her either. But maybe we were never really talking about her. There’s only ever been one “wild” one between us anyway.

“So, you’ve never kissed anyone before?” He confirms, only partially on the bed now, his fingers skimming the carpet between us.

“No.” I breathe out and roll closer to the edge of the bed too. It’s like something is pulling me more than it feels like me moving.

“And neither has Jaewon?” He tosses out conversationally.

“Well, Jaewon’s too young.” I answer easily. “You can’t have a first kiss when you’re only like five or whatever.”

“Then I’m too young too.” He teases, a grin spreading over the half of his face that wasn’t buried in blankets.

And that just doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t seem right that there was ever a time on this earth where Chilhyun wasn’t charming and making people fall for him and seducing. There couldn’t have been. He must’ve showed up on this plane a fully-formed, fatally charming incubus. I couldn’t imagine it any other way. But I can’t even _try_ to imagine a young, impish Chilhyun because every time I meet his eyes it feels like the room closes in on us a little more and the air gets thicker.

“Did you at least think about your first kiss?” He presses while I’m pointedly looking anywhere but at him.

And of course I did. Whenever I had the time to sleep properly and really dream, I’d wake up panting with my heart hammering in my chest. Lingering images of pretty faces and soft skin, pliant openness settling into my brain. I had fleeting fantasies every time we passed by a pretty noona in the halls of a music show. When I had the energy to yearn for anything other than food or rest, I was _starved_ for someone else to touch me like they wanted me and the freedom to touch them back. I was plagued by thoughts of kissing, more than kissing, less than kissing. It was never far from my mind. But with that devilish grin still spread across Chilhyun’s face, I can’t recall a single one. “Not really.” I answer, my voice breathless and betraying me.

“Really?” He falls easily from the bed to the floor with a soft thump. It’s so graceful and purposeful, it looks like he’s being pulled more than he’s rolling himself.

I feel the pull to leave the confines of this bed too but I’m still clinging to edge. “Yeah,” I answer, tracing my fingers against the carpet in an effort to keep myself up. “What about you? What was your dream first kiss? The perfect scenario?”

He flicks his eyes up towards the ceiling for a moment before settling back on me. “Spring. Under the cherry blossoms. Sunset. The whole package, y’know?”

And I’ve never been particularly fond of spring but I can already feel the sketchy outline of cherry blossoms being added to whatever is left of my old fantasies. “But what about your _real_ first kiss?”

“It was fall, near the snack bar, we were walking home.” He shrugs like it was no big deal. “She kept giving me hints but I was too nervous to do anything and then she said something about having to go different ways soon and I just did it.”

By the time he looks over to gage my reaction, I’m already on the floor with him. It’s not a conscious decision. But it feels like nothing really is. I don’t know what kind of reaction I’m giving him really. Because something about his story seems…off. It’s hard to believe Chilhyun was ever nervous about public reaction. That he ever had a moment where he wasn’t 100% sure that the people around him wanted him and liked him. But it also feels like half of my brain has just turned off and the other half is submerged in a jar of honey. And even when my brain was in its best condition I still could rarely tell if Chilhyun was lying or not.

“It was just a peck.” He adds casually, almost dismissively, after studying my reaction for long enough that I feel the heat of his gaze on my face.

“Did you expect more in middle school?” I scoff. The music is just a vague buzzing in my head now, even though I know every word to this album.

“No…” He trails off, flicking his eyes down, pouting his lips a little. “I just didn’t think I’d have to wait so long for a second kiss.”

And if any part of my brain was functioning at all—if this was Seungho or Jaewon—I would’ve immediately snapped back with, “at least you _got_ one.” But Chilhyun’s so different. He always has been. And instead all I can think about is that hypothetical second kiss he left hanging in the air. Did it already happen? Is he just fantasizing about it? Was it at the dorms? In our van? At his parent’s house? With a pretty noona from high school? Or another celebrity? That rookie actress that kept staring him down while taping a variety show? _One of us_?

The last thought comes to me in broken bits of mosaic—fragments of images that tell me too much and not enough at the same time. Lips against lips. A pretty, delicate little hand in the obnoxious bright red hair Heejun had once. Jaewon’s, gangly, boney body wrapped around someone much smaller. And my stomach turns at the images but it’s more from jealousy than disgust. Some fucked up but still functioning part of my brain spits out that I should tell Lee Sooman himself to be wary of adding such a charming succubus to his next group. That it might put the public on the side of the group immediately but that it’s also already turning my brain into useless mush. And if I think about being third or fourth or even fifth in this any longer, it might just tear the group apart.

The room feeling smaller and smaller, like I have nowhere to go but as close to Chilhyun as possible, is nothing new but suddenly there _is_ nowhere to go but right to Chilhyun. He’s propped up on an elbow casually, our noses almost touching but with Chilhyun angled so he has to look up at me. And there’s this infinitely long moment where we are just close but not touching, sharing the same air, staring each other down. And if the world ended here, if time stopped forever with us frozen in this moment, we wouldn’t have to say that we kissed. I could hold this moment right here and never have to say “I kissed Ahn Chilhyun” and have to mean it.

But we’ve already crossed a line and even if we both drop dead here I’ll have to confess that I was _going_ to kiss Ahn Chilhyun. That every fucking nerve ending in my body is alive with the burning, all-encompassing _need_ to kiss Ahn Chilhyun. That my blood has all turned into white-hot lava flowing through my veins. That I am more flustered and my heart is more ragged and my breathing is all coming out in harsh pants harder than any other time in my life. That Chilhyun is worse for my health and sanity than every pretty noona we ever met in passing at music events (even Lee Hyori).

And he waits there. His lips parted. His eyes half-lidded. The picture of temptation. He just waits. He leaves it in my hands. And I let it rest in my hands, hypothetically, almost in actuality with how close we were. There was no way I was going to let this opportunity pass me by, though. He was an entirely different level of stunning and breath-taking and gorgeous under the soft yellowish lights in our dorm. He tilts his head ever so slightly, so our noses are no longer tip-to-tip. And that’s all it takes. I lean down to close the gap and feel like I’m falling into an abyss.

His lips are soft and I can faintly taste something floral and bitter on his mouth. It reminds me of the medicine my parents send me when the weather gets colder. I briefly think that temptation should taste sweeter. He leans up into my mouth, pressing his hands roughly in the carpet to get a better angle. Our chests are nearly pressed together and with the closeness, I can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady. My heartbeat is so frantic and erratic, I feel like I’m vibrating through reality more than I’m living in it. But I manage to get a trembling hand around the back of his head to hold him close.

It takes me a moment to get over the fact that I’m _kissing_ someone, for the first time in my entire life. Lips against lips is completely different from any other skin on skin contact in a way that I can’t even begin to describe (is the skin more sensitive? Is it more electric? Is the intimacy just blinding me entirely from the sensation?). It’s Ahn Chilhyun I’m kissing. It’s _Ahn Chilhyun_. My hand at the base of _Kangta’s_ neck. My skin is on his skin without any of the uncomfortable tension, the constant nagging thought that someone was just waiting to pull us away. I had never been allowed this contact—this _access_ —to Chilhyun before. Not even in shared water bottles or the backs of our hands brushing together in close quarters or sweaty after-show embraces. And with his delicate, little hands sliding up my forearms I wasn’t sure I’d ever be willing to let go of the privilege.

Chilhyun holds onto my arms, goading my free arm to wrap around his waist and with that support alone he pulls himself into a sitting position, freeing his own hands. He’s tall and light just like Jaewon but he’s never looked as scrawny and insubstantial as Jaewon. I never expected him to be so easy to hold. And everything from there is burned into my memory forever. It’s all things that really only apply to eighteen-year-old Chilhyun but are things I will associate with him for _decades_. The floral-bitter taste of his mouth. The way the shaved hair on the back of his neck felt (soft and prickly, like velvet). The feeling of his tongue against mine.

And he parts from me for just a second. His eyes downcast to my lips, panting warm air onto my still-damp skin. And it should give me a second to think but my brain is useless mush, still spitting stupid shit like, _nothing will ever be the same again_ or _maybe next time we should do this on a bed instead of the floor_. Then his eyes come back up to meet mine and all I can do is slide my hands up under the oversized shirt he’s wearing. There’s no force to my touch but he falls over easily under me any way. Hovering over him, I wonder if the whole country dreamed about being in the position. I wonder if they dreamed of being under Chilhyun instead. I wonder if this is a fantasy only I would have and live out. And I still can’t figure out, with Chilhyun, giving me curious and imploring eyes from his spot under me, if he was truly an innocent little lamb or if he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Then one of the strangest moments in my entire life occurs. I am convinced that I see moonlight reflected in Chilhyun’s eyes. The window is closed and the blinds are drawn. And even if they weren’t, this window was mostly blocked by the adjacent building and moonlight never got in. But it’s like those moments in a dream where you are entirely convinced that something that _can’t_ be, is. Before I can untangle the thought, Chilhyun is pulling me down for another kiss.

It’s like the music has stopped entirely. All I can hear is his heartbeat, his breathing and the sound of skin on skin. It’s not the obscene, wet, slapping noise I’d come to associate with sex. This was just a whisper. A suggestion. Barely a sound at all. I push my hand up his side, rucking up his shirt and am rewarded with a soft, sweet little groan against my lips. I want to capture the sound and save it in a locket. And, more pressingly, I want to hear more.

But the front door slams open noisily. “We brought snacks!” Seungho yells from the doorway.

Me and Chilhyun part like a bolt of lightning struck both of us. We both scramble backwards until we are pressed firmly against opposite beds. Chilhyun’s whole face is a lightly flushed and his lips are a little bit swollen but it’s nothing obvious. I’m trying desperately to stop breathing like I’ve just finished the fifth hour of dance practice and I have no idea what kind of wreck I look like.

“Hello?” Seungho tries again, a little more cautiously.

“Yo.” Chilhyun responds.

“Oh, there you are.” Heejun acknowledges, peeking his head into the room. He’s got a full plastic bag in one hand.

“Is Jaewonnie already asleep?” Seungho questions, filling up the rest of the space in the doorway.

“Yeah, he’s like _out_.” Chilhyun laughs.

“Well, leave some for him.” Seungho reminds us and sets down the bag in the middle of the room.

“Did you get any shrimp chips?” Chilhyun, asks rifling through the bag before finding his prize. I watch him pop a chip into his mouth and think about how I was just kissing those lips. But it’s like nothing transpired at all.

“Don’t you want anything?” Seungho prompts, waving an open package of cookies under my nose.

But my stomach has already started turning and the smell of chocolate just makes me sick. “Nah, I’m gonna go to bed.” I try to tell him casually. Even if it feels like the entire world has shifted around me. Like we’re all upside-down and I’m the only one reacting to it.

Seungho seems to not notice either, though. “Kay, g’night.” He sends me off with.

I lay down in the other room and stare hard at Jaewon’s unresponsive back. He looks no different than he did an hour ago. The room looks exactly the same. It’s like nothing changed. Even if it feels like everything inside me has been rearranged—things squished uncomfortably into too-small spaces and others floating around in emptiness. I can see the sky from the window of this room and it looks like the stars are all scattered in the right place. But I never really paid them much attention before. It’s still the same night. It just seems like the same night in a completely different universe.

Something did change that night. Even if it takes me decades to sort of pin down the feeling and I never manage find the words to describe it. The earth tilts in some miniscule but crucial way and I never find a way to put it back. But it’s just a blip. Really.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](angelinmyheartt.tumblr.com) [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Nitzer)


End file.
